


Game Over. Continue?

by NeoQwerty



Category: The Protomen
Genre: Act I: The Protomen, Gen, Post-Hope Rides Alone, Protoman Is A Cyborg, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoQwerty/pseuds/NeoQwerty
Summary: He was supposed to be the perfect man. An unbeatable machine. He was supposed to win against Wily's army, to free mankind.He lost. He died. For a moment, the lightning of his mind found something else like him. And now Wily is changing him.A word flashes across his sight: CONTINUE?
Kudos: 3





	Game Over. Continue?

His world moves. Shifts. He feels bones and gears and cords and veins twist. Unnatural, but he is paralyzed, held captive. Red arches like wicked lightning between the steel claws of his ribs, coils over veins and wires. His world stutters.

His eyes snap open, his eyes jerking and moving in uncontrolled, inhuman spasms, and he shrieks through a jaw nearly torn off, hanging bloodily open. Pain burns through him, and his body convulses as lightning shocks through his core and brain.

For a split second, he exists in two places at once. He cannot grasp this fully, this sudden feeling of being split apart, across two selves, and his eyes dart uselessly, trading conflicting information. He sees his creator's face, twisted and heartbroken, Light. He sees a malicious dark slash on fair skin and pale eyes, Wily. The surge batters him until, suddenly, he slumps back down. 

His breathing is wet, ragged. His throat on fire, and he exists as an ocean of pain. A hand jerks his injured head sideways, and he cries out again from the agony flaring. A silky chuckle makes his eyes widen, and then he snarls as best as he can, feels a deep growling roar rattle in his components. Anger kicks in as an intruding prong slides into the port of his neck, and his vision skews. Streaks flicker in and out, sectors of his vision turning bad colors, dimming and brightening at random. Between the uncontrollable motions of his eyes and this new interference, he bares teeth at his helplessness.

He was supposed **He** to be the **perf** ect man. An **machine** unbeatable machine. He was supposed **win** to defeat the army of **evil** -vil robots. To **free** mankind.

He lost. **Fight.**  
He lost. **Ready.**  
He lost. **Fight. Willing.**  
He isn't perfect. **Perfect man.**  
He isn't unbeatable. **Unbeatable machine.**  
He's scared. **Fearless.**

A word flashes across his sight, before fading away.

**CONTINUE?**


End file.
